Wayne Rehabilitation Centre
by Hidden By Shadow
Summary: Bruce Wayne gets saddled with his worst nightmare.  Rogues moving into his mansion and he's forced to allow this to happen in the name of rehabilitating them thanks to the parole board of Arkham Asylum!
1. Chapter 1: What Did I Do To Deserve This

Wayne Rehabilitation Centre

Chapter 1: What Did I Do To Deserve This?

DISCLAIMER: The author does not own the Batman comics, they are owned by DC Comics.

_AN: Don't know how successful this fic will be, I've had the general idea for a while now but not the time to write it. So, here we go..._

Bruce Wayne looked at the pile of folders in front of him. Being on the parole board of Arkham Asylum had its advantages. Such as being able to make sure the Rogues didn't just waltz into a parole hearing, feed the board a sob story then waltz straight out the front doors. Although some of the more inventive Rogues just wandered out the back door whenever they wanted anyway. For them, Arkham Asylum equalled free healthcare, which considering that as Batman Wayne regularly battered the Rogues before dragging their sorry asses back to Arkham minus a few teeth and covered in scrapes, bruises and often cuts was necessary. Browsing through the tabs on the sides of the folders, Bruce noticed that the Rogues up for parole today were Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Edward Nygma and Jonathan Crane. Opening up the topmost file, Bruce started to read Pamela Isley's records. Since the last time Bruce had hauled her backside back to the Asylum for attempting to blow up a bank that through some rather odd connections was involved in deforestation, Isley had spent most of her time hanging around her cell, lying on her bed and staring out the window. In therapy she had been uncooperative, rarely talking to her assigned therapist and in the few moments she was allowed to socialise, she'd sat around staring into space. As the door was pushed open and Isley was accompanied into the room by two guards, Bruce put down the file and looked at her. The orange jumpsuit the inmates wore clashed with her long red hair and pale skin which had a green tinge to it. Isley just stared at the guards as one of them forced her to sit in the chair at the centre of the room before eyeballing each member of the parole board.

"Do you feel you have been rehabilitated?" One of the board members asked. Isley just stared at them with a bored expression.

"Rehabilitated? No." Isley stated slowly.

"Care to expand on that?" The board member asked.

"You're young. Naïve. These places don't exist to rehabilitate anyone. They exist so you can lock us up 'til we're old and useless before tossing us on the streets with nowhere to go." Isley stated. She remained silent until the guards came back to take her back to her cell.

Bruce opened the next folder. Harleen Quinzell, also known as Harley Quinn. The Joker's girl. Who he spent most of his time with beating her to a pulp while forcing her to laugh with him. She'd gone back to Arkham after Joker had given her a gentle shove out of a window on the tenth floor of a building. Bruce had grabbed her in mid-air, but she was already unconscious, as she had remained until she'd been taken to Arkham's Intensive Care unit. This time, the guards didn't need to force her into a chair, Harleen practically ran into the room and dived onto the chair. Sporting two blonde pigtails and a massive grin on her face, Bruce couldn't wait for some moron to ask her to tell a joke. It looked like she'd had way too much sugar, she was bouncing up and down on the chair.

"Ms Quinzell..." a board member began.

"Harley." Harleen corrected.

"...would you say being in Arkham has helped you?" the board member finished. Harleen nodded her head, causing her pigtails to go flying around in the air.

"Would you like to say anything for the record?" the board member prompted. Harleen paused before talking.

"Canteen food is gross, buildings falling apart, security is crap, inmates are boring..." Harleen ranted. Before long, the guards were back in to take her out and she was still talking.

Bruce glanced at the next folder. Edward Nygma. Also known as The Riddler. This was going to be interesting. Bruce had last seen Nygma breaking into a bank and stealing the computers, leaving all the money behind. As the guards brought Edward in, there was no bouncing around the room like Harley or complete apathy like Isley. Instead, Nygma just sat down and stared ahead of him.

"Mr Nygma, do you feel that being in Arkham has helped you?" a board member asked.

"No." Edward answered, pretty much shooting down any other lines of questioning.

The final folder. Bruce didn't even have to glance at it. Jonathan Crane. Also known as Scarecrow. Picked up last attempting to poison the Gotham Police force with fear toxin. This was even worse than the previous three. Crane walked in ahead of his guards, sat down, said "Parole boards are crap" and walked straight out of his own parole hearing. Still, at least it wasn't wasting anyone's time. As the door shut, the board chairman made a statement that made Bruce freeze up.

"I think we should release them." The chairman stated.

"Exactly which one of them convinced you to do that?" Bruce asked, wondering what on earth the chairman had been bribed with or threatened with that caused him to say that.

"They're clearly not insane anymore. Perhaps if they were allowed to go into the community under control they might improve." The chairman suggested, "But we'd have to put them into someone's custody."

"Why not Bruce Wayne's?" another board member suggested. As soon as Bruce opened his mouth to protest, the rest of the board outvoted him. So, it was agreed, the four Rouges were to be released into Wayne's custody.

A couple of days later four security vans pulled into Wayne Manor and parked in front of the door. Bruce stood in one of the rooms overlooking the vans, scowling. As soon as he had told Alfred what had happened, the old butler had actually said it might help. At the least they wouldn't be on the streets or in Arkham's famously minimal security. As the van doors opened and the four were pulled out, for some reason back in the outfits they'd been admitted in, the vans sped off leaving the four bewildered villains staring at their surroundings. After they'd exchanged pleasantries, which in Harley's case meant almost knocking Isley off her feet in a hug, the four walked through the open doors into Wayne Manor. Bruce stood on the stairs above them, glaring.

"Personally, I don't want any of you here." Bruce started, gripping the banister tightly, "But since the court has agreed that this might actually help you, I'm stuck with you here. But while you are under my roof, you follow my rules. Break them and you go straight back to Arkham and it'll be another five years before you get to see a parole board." Glancing around, Bruce noticed that this didn't faze them. Probably because all four would just break out of Arkham if sent back anyway.

"First, no criminal activity. I find you committing any criminal acts, no matter how small, it's back to Arkham." Bruce stated as Harley waved her hand in the air like a schoolgirl.

"Does speeding and spray painting walls count?" Harley asked.

"Are speeding and vandalism against the law?"

"Yeah."

"You just answered your own question." Bruce stated, "Second; no abusing, threatening or in any other way mistreating anyone in this house. This includes your comrades." This time Isley raised a hand.

"What if Joker comes here, can we wail on him?" Isley asked.

"If he breaks in, yes. If he's paroled, no." Bruce stated, "But he's not eligible for parole for two months. Third, you demonstrate that you can be of some use to society. No sitting around on your backsides having everything handed to you on a plate here. Any questions?"

"What's a hypotenuse?" Harley asked suddenly, so suddenly in fact that Bruce doubted it was even a serious question.

"Any sensible questions?" Bruce asked.

"Do we get to buy stuff?" Edward asked.

"Define." Bruce asked icily.

"Laptops, clothes, stuff like that." Edward added.

"Only if you behave. I find you using computers to cause a nuisance of yourself..." Bruce started.

"It's off to Arkham." Edward finished, "We got the hint."

"Okay, Alfred will show you to your rooms." Bruce said before skulking off.

The four rouges' rooms were spread over the manor. Isley got the room nearest the greenhouse, Harley got the room closest to the media room, Edward got a room in the basement and Crane got a room on the top floor, overlooking Gotham. To say that the rouges' were happy with this was an understatement. They loved it. No sooner had Alfred handed Harley a keycard for her door, she'd run into the media room and turned on the TV, putting the volume way up and lying on the couch. Crane had sat down on a balcony with an apple in his hand, looking out over the city. Edward had walked right into the middle of his room and started to think about redecorating it. Although he could imagine what Bruce's reaction would be if it came to resemble any of his lairs, Edward wanted the familiarity of a bank of computers and black walls.

Bruce sat down in front of the computer in the cave, rubbing his temples. A headache was setting in. On the desk in front of him, the files he'd created on each of the four villains currently occupying rooms in his house were scattered. Bruce was disturbed from his brooding by his phone ringing. Picking it up, Bruce waited.

"Sir, some of your guests have asked..." Alfred began politely.

"Is he on the line?" Harley shouted from somewhere in the background before Bruce heard the phone changing hands. "HIYA GROUCHY!" Harley shouted down the phone so loudly that Bruce had to hold the phone at arm's length to prevent a migrane. The phone changed hands again.

"...for permission to go shopping." Alfred continued as if he hadn't ever been interrupted.

"Shopping's fun!" Harley shouted in the background. Bruce pressed a button on the computer, pulling up a surveillance feed from within the Manor. Alfred was calling from the Media room, and Harley was currently hanging over a couch with a grin on her face. As if she knew she was being watched, the woman threw herself off the couch, looked straight at the camera and started trying to give Bruce the look every man dreads. The puppy eyes look. "Pwease!" Harley shouted. Bruce agreed, if only to stop Harley from shouting and to make them Commissioner Gordon's problem if they suddenly went on a rampage. Bruce hung up before Harley's happy squealing could deafen him.

Being a shop owner in Gotham was a stressful job. If the rouges' weren't stealing the stock or threatening the customers and staff, they were 'accidentally' blowing the building up or putting either their car, their goons' cars, civilian's cars, or the Batmobile through the walls. So when Edward Nygma walked into an electronics store, he wasn't surprised to find everyone diving for cover. Even without his domino mask, his face was very distinctive. And as part of their parole, the rouges were banned from disguising their identities, they either had to wear the outfits they wore most often in public or wear clothes with their names branded on them. Edward rolled his eyes as everyone else in the store hit the deck before walking over to the isle with the desktop computers. After looking at each model in turn, Edward picked up an order form and wrote down a number, before walking to the laptops and repeating the process, then to the netbooks. When he was finished, Edward walked to the counter. Seeing the teenager who was meant to be manning the till cowering behind the counter, Edward leaned over the counter and held the order form in front of the teenager's face.

"Ring this order up." Edward commanded, seeing as asking nicely would probably fail.

"Take whatever you want, just don't hurt me!" The teen blurted out.

"If I wanted to just steal your stuff, I would. I want to have the computers and pay for them! That means you have to ring the order up." Edward stated, slightly annoyed. First time he'd tried to buy something legally in years and it went to hell in the first minute.

While Nygma was attempting to buy computers, Harley had wandered into an entertainment store. And got the same reaction. Staff and customers alike dropped to the floor and started cowering. Harley just skipped down the isles before stopping in front of a rack of dvds. Grabbing a pile, Harley walked around the store, adding to the pile in her arms before walking to the counter. Dumping her purchases on it, Harley slammed a credit card down on it.

"CUSTOMER WAITING HERE!" Harley shouted impatiently. One of the staff members cowering behind the tills threw their wallet over.

"Take it! Just don't kill us." A woman shouted.

"Kill you? Puddin' might, but I'm here to buy these." Harley stated, throwing the wallet back. One of the staff members stood up to see Harley, smiling and a pile of dvds that she'd picked up. It was a very big pile.

Jonathan Crane and Pamela Isley sat on a bench in the centre of the mall, watching as everyone ran off in abject terror. The pair hadn't really wanted to go shopping anyway, and watching the crowds reaction to something so small and simple as Isley, also known as Poison Ivy, walking straight into a mall and sitting down on a bench was Crane's idea of a good time. And even better, even though everyone was terrified and Crane was enjoying watching people run in fear, they hadn't broken any laws. Which meant they couldn't be sent back to Arkham. And Batman couldn't wail on them for breaking the law. And as the Gotham Police Department ran into the mall with their guns out, Isley started laughing at them.

"Is there a crime being committed here, officer?" Isley asked sweetly, causing Crane to start laughing.

"Shut it." The officer nearest to her shouted, pointing his machine gun at her, "You're here. People are screaming. You must have done something."

"Yeah, breathe!" Crane joked, causing Isley to burst into a fit of giggles. "Look out, Scarecrow and Ivy are walking around in a mall and breathing! Run for your lives!" Sadly for Crane and Isley, the police did not share their humour, which is how Commissioner Gordon found them on their knees with their hands in handcuffs behind them when he showed up.

"Officer, what have they done?" Gordon asked, exasperated. Even if Arkham was as efficient as a giant revolving door there was usually a short period between arrest and next crime where the Rouges lay low. It wasn't out of Arkham one day, cause mass panic the next.

"Erm, we don't know. Crane and Isley have no weapons. We have no witnesses saying they've actually done anything other than walk in and sit down." An officer said nervously.

"So, what you're saying is you've just arrested two innocent people." Gordon sighed, "Let them go and offer them a ride home."

Bruce stood in front of the entrance to Wayne Manor as three police cars pulled up. Crane and Isley got out of one, Harley out of the second and Edward out of the third. The reason that Harley and Edward hadn't shared a car was soon apparent. The amount of stuff they had brought. Gordon had phoned Wayne as soon as he could, so Wayne already knew what had happened in the mall. Although he wasn't really surprised that the public would react in absolute terror at the sight of the rogues, Bruce still wasn't happy. Especially at the amount of stuff Harley and Edward had brought. Harley had brought a load of films and videogames. Edward had brought enough computers to run a small business with. Bruce glared as the four ran inside, taking Harley and Edward's purchases with them. He knew full well what Harley was going to be like now she had a supply of games and films to watch. Headache was too small a description.

That night, nobody got any sleep. The root cause of that was Harley being in the Media room with a games console, the TV with the volume way up and Harley's enthusiastic shouting anytime she took out an enemy in the game she was playing. Eventually, Bruce got out of bed and walked to the Media Room. Opening the door, Bruce saw Harley was playing a game with the main character as Batman wandering around Arkham for some reason.

"Harley, quit shouting so people can get some sleep or you sleep in Arkham." Bruce said loudly. Harley jumped out of her skin, dropping the controller on the floor and jumping off the couch she'd been sat on.

"I'll-be-good!" Harley said quickly. Bruce wondered why exactly Harley had answered him that way, or why she had a look of fear on her face.

_AN: In case anyone can't tell, Harley was playing Arkham Asylum._


	2. Chapter 2: Harley Discovers Online Games

Wayne Rehabilitation Centre

Chapter 2: Harley Discovers Online Gaming

DISCLAIMER 1: The author does not own the Batman comics, they are owned by DC Comics.

_AN: Don't know how successful this fic will be, I've had the general idea for a while now but not the time to write it. So, here we go..._

Bruce Wayne staggered out of his room. He'd had all of forty minutes sleep, thanks to the amount of noise coming from the media room. Harley had spent the entire night on a video game. And, being Harley, had spent the time shouting loudly and laughing anytime someone did something stupid. Which, given that she'd gotten around to playing Metal Gear Online, was often. Passing Isley and Crane in the hallway, Bruce had to look again at their choice of clothing. Crane was wearing a t-shirt with 'In Gotham, no-one cares if you scream' on it, which was much better than Isley's choice of 'I ate a baby!' on the front and 'Baby, the other other white meat!' on the back.

"And where do you two think you're going dressed like that?" Bruce asked, going from tired to annoyed in a microsecond.

"Erm, the mall?" Crane stated.

"No chance, get changed." Bruce stated, heading into the media room. Harley was still awake, and screaming at the tv.

"No, don't use the bloody human catapult, there's a sniper right there, oh wait, now you're brain go explody!" Harley jabbered as Bruce just walked up to the tv and yanked the power cable out. "WHAT DID YA DO THAT FOR, I WAS ABOUT TA WIN!" Harley screamed.

"Harleen, go to bed." Bruce commanded.

"Nuh-uh."

"Harleen, you've been awake over twenty four hours. Go to bed."

"I wanna play GTA!"

"GO. TO. BED. NOW!" Bruce roared, making Harley run out of the room before Bruce decided to move her himself. Walking out of the room, Bruce passed an electricity meter. Which was way over what it should have been. Bruce didn't even have to look around to find why. He just shouted instead. "Nygma, turn whatever you've got up there off or I will come up there and smash it with an axe!" The meter went back down. Bruce sighed. So far, he'd encountered criminal fashion sense, an addiction to gaming and knowing Edward he'd probably been doing the same. God, or whatever malicious entity was throwing crap in his general direction was probably laughing their ass off.

Having managed to get breakfast and get Harley in a bed, Bruce went down to the cave and started up his computer. No sooner had it come online did Bruce have cause for alarm. Gordon was sending him a stream of the security cameras at the mall. Which, judging by the two people sat on benches and being generally annoying was going to be empty. Apparently, Crane and Isley had decided to go and cause a nuisance of themselves at the mall. Luckily, they had actually changed their clothes. And their manners. Isley was spread over a bench with just a bikini on, apparently sunbathing in the middle of the mall. And Crane was sitting nearby slurping soft drinks then throwing the empty cups on the floor. Bruce jumped in the Batmobile and sped off down to the mall, hoping that they had committed a crime so he could send their sorry asses back to Arkham.

Marching through the shopping mall, Bruce came to a stop right in front of Isley. Looking down, he noted that she was wearing sunglasses which blocked out the view of her eyes.

"Can you move please, I'm trying to catch rays here!" Isley said irritably.

"Then go to a beach and stop making an exhibition of yourself." Bruce stated, barely avoiding growling at her. Turning around, he watched Crane throw another cup onto the floor. "So what's your excuse for littering?"

"Bin's full." Crane shrugged.

"Then go find another." Bruce stated.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to get up." Crane stated. Bruce just sighed and grabbed Crane by the back of his collar, forcing him onto his feet.

"Pick up all the cups you've dropped then go to the entrance and get in the car." Bruce commanded. Crane obeyed, knowing the consequence of refusing was likely to be a spell in Arkham. As Crane went off, Bruce turned to the problem of Isley's clothing, or lack thereof.

"Right, do you have anything other than that bikini with you to wear?" Bruce asked. Isley shrugged.

"Costume and that shirt you made me take off this morning." Isley stated.

"Where's the rest of your clothes?" Bruce asked.

"What clothes? The police keep stealing mine whenever I get busted and Arkham is not a fashion shop." Isley answered. Bruce sighed, before spotting a clothes store right in front of him.

"Right, get in there, buy an outfit and get changed." Bruce commanded.

"No money." Isley stated, smirking.

"Fine, here's a credit card. Buy something decent." Bruce sighed, flinging a card at the woman, "I'll be back in an hour." Isley smiled, flipping the card between her fingers.

Driving to the front of the building and leaving the Batmobile for Alfred to park, Bruce marched Crane into the media room, where Harley was awake and once more on games. With Edward sat next to her egging her on, it was likely she'd already beaten a couple.

"Do either of you have a set of clothes that isn't just what you went into Arkham wearing?" Bruce asked suddenly, making Harley drop the controller in surprise.

"Erm, no." Edward answered.

"So how are you wearing what you are now?" Bruce asked, since neither of them was wearing their usual costumes.

"Because unlike some, we actually either wear normal clothes under our costumes or we put them somewhere in them." Edward explained, glaring at Crane.

"Yeah, I've been hiding a change of clothing in my hat for years." Harley stated, "Stupid Arkham staff never give us any good clothes. They just kick us out the door in whatever torn clothes we came in wearing. Which is your fault by the way." Harley added, glaring daggers at Bruce.

"How is it my fault you commit crime?" Bruce asked, coldly.

"No, I meant about you tearing our clothes up." Harley stated, "'Cause that is your fault." Turning back to the screen, Harley shot someone before shouting, "Eat frag, newb!"

"And that's another thing, you are not just going to sit around, eat junk and play games all day." Bruce stated.

"Aww, Daaad!" Harley whined, causing Edward to start laughing.

"Plus, you have to do chores." Bruce said, causing more moaning from Harley.

Harley sat on a rooftop moaping. Sadly, Bruce Wayne's idea of chores was not doing dishes or cleaning. Well, cleaning in a different sense. He'd told the three rogues who'd been in the mansion at the time they had to go and prevent one crime each. He didn't care what crime, but they each had to prevent one. And to make matters worse, they were banned from using their costumes to scare people. They were stuck in whatever they had worn under their costumes and the clothes had their names dyed onto them. The only person who'd gotten off was Isley, because she still hadn't gotten back when Bruce kicked the three rogues out and told them to go prevent crimes as opposed to causing them. Looking around, Harley noticed some kids sat around a computer throwing discs at each other. Moving to take a closer look, Harley noticed they were on Bit Torrent.

"Well, that was easy." Harley said, pulling out a radio she'd been given by Bruce, "This is Quinn, got four nerds exchanging warez."

"Erm, come again?" Bruce asked over the radio.

"Four teens swapping music on Bit Torrent."

"Say that again, without the technobabble."

"Four kids exchanging stolen music files." Harley sighed.

"Well, that's better than what Crane and Nygma came up with." Bruce sighed, "I'm on my way."

"Just out of interest," Harley said, leaning against a wall, "What did the men come up with?"

"Nygma came up with two teens swearing and Crane gave me a jaywalker." Bruce said. Harley had to put one hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing her head off. Swearing and jaywalking were not the sort of crimes the Batman was usually tasked with preventing. Still, probably made a change from her puddin' introducing Gotham City residents to his latest toy.

"Any word on Red?" Harley asked.

"Nope, no sign of her." Bruce said as he sped around a corner, "I'll be with you in five minutes."

Isley sat down on a bench and sighed. Carting around five bags of shopping was hard work. Still, it was her way of getting even with Batman for all the times he'd ruined her plans. She was going to hit him where it hurt. His bank balance. So far, she'd made a one thousand dollar donation to 'Save The Rainforest' and a five hundred dollar donation to the Red Cross. Both on Bruce Wayne's credit card. If he was too stupid to specify that she had to buy clothes with the card, Isley wasn't going to complain. Looking around, she noticed from charity workers working for a wildlife charity. Smiling, Isley stood up and hauled her bags over.

Harley watched through the window as Bruce kicked the teen's door off it's hinges. It was too bad she hadn't had the foresight to go and fetch some popcorn. This would be funny. As soon as the Bat came charging through their door, the teens immediately jumped away from their computers, reached for the sky and started shouting. Luckily for Harley, their window was open slightly, so she could hear them.

"We're not doing anything wrong!"

"We're innocent!"

Harley smiled as Bruce walked up to a computer and looked at the screen.

"Of course you are, if this isn't porn. But it is, so you're not." Bruce snarked. Outside, Harley giggled.

"B-but it's not porn, porn." One of the teenagers squeaked.

"No, it's that new type of porn – not porn!" Bruce said, sarcastically. This had Harley laughing loudly. "You're all going downtown."

After the teens had been cuffed and chucked in the back of a police van, Harley and Bruce went home to find Alfred standing in the entrance waiting for them. Holding out a slip of paper to Bruce, Harley passed them as Bruce took the paper and read it. Running upstairs to the media room, Harley jumped onto the sofa and grabbed a controller. Switching the game console on, she went online and decided to do what she did best. Frag newbs.

"ISLEY! YOU SPENT FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS ON CLOTHES!" Bruce shouted. Apparently, Alfred had given Bruce an itemised receipt of Isley's credit card use. Harley laughed as on screen, her character shot a man in the face with a shotgun, taking his head off.

_AN: Very late, my laptop had to go in for servicing and I've had a lot of reports to write. Both of which gobble up my writing time. And now, it's time to deal with the reviews. First off, thanks to caitycat22, MyChemicalNightmare, Artemis Queen of the Stars, my anonymous reviewer & extrodanary geek for their reviews. And secondly, to deal with a question from Artemis Queen of the Stars. The rogues are supposed to either be wearing their costumes or clothes which have their name printed on them, so they can't just go about causing havoc under an alias. That and the staff of Arkham don't exactly hand out new wardrobes with each discharge._


	3. Chapter 3: Ivy's Chore

Wayne Rehabilitation Centre

Chapter 3: Ivy's Chore

DISCLAIMER: The author does not own Batman, DC Comics does.

Bruce Wayne woke up to the sound of someone swearing like a marine. Quite loudly. Running in the direction of the noise, Bruce ran into the Media Room while Harley stood shouting as many curses as she knew at the TV.

"Why are you swearing at the tv?" Bruce asked, annoyed at being woken up by the hyper-active clown.

"Because the power cut off and the stupid console erased all my save data!" Harley shouted, punctuating her speech with swear words. In his mind, Bruce started thanking whichever benevolent entity had caused that. Maybe Harley would stop spending all her time in front of the idiot box and do something useful. Like read a book.

"Maybe you should go to the library and get some books then." Bruce suggested.

"Library's boring." Harley said, sounding like a child.

"Well, you're not moaping around here all day, I've got stuff to do and Alfred is busy." Bruce said, before having a great idea that would save him buying headache medicine and an expensive electricity bill. "I know, why don't I arrange for you to spend the day at the apartment of one of my friends." Bruce suggested. Harley immediately squealed in his ear, which meant she was happy. Bruce stomped up to Nygma's room and banged on the door. "Edward, you're going with Harley over to a friend of mine's apartment." Bruce shouted, "Take whatever you need. Be at the entrance in ten minutes."

Twenty minutes later, Bruce was standing outside a door in an expensive apartment building while Harley and Edward stood next to each other holding laptop bags and in Edward's case a bag full of computer games. Bruce told them to wait there and rang the doorbell before running off. The door opened and a voice called out for the two to come in. Hesitantly, the two walked into the apartment. Inside, the apartment was furnished with bookshelves and at the back a huge computer display was visible.

"I'll just be a minute – make yourselves at home." A female voice called out. Harley sat on the sofa and wondered who Bruce had dumped them on as their host shouted down a phone. "Bruce, why exactly did you just dump two people on my doorstep and run off?" Harley's head shot up when she heard the sound of a motorized wheelchair coming from one of the other rooms. "I don't care how much you want them out, they were assigned by the court to your care. That means they're your problem, not my dad's and not mine either." Edward noticed the way all the colour was draining out of Harley's face. "And I would care that they were driving up your electricity bills, why?" The noise of the electric wheelchair got closer to the scared Harley. "Look, this is the first and last time I act as a babysitter for you. And you are going to get billed for it, too." The sound of a phone being shut echoed into the room before a door was pushed open by an electric wheelchair being driven through it backwards. Edward watched as the wheelchair stopped, then spun around, revealing its owner.

Bruce wandered back into his mansion after dropping off Harley and Edward.

"Two down, two to go." He thought to himself as he saw Isley sitting in the kitchen reading a book. "And what do you think you're doing?" Bruce asked the relaxing eco-terrorist.

"Erm, reading." Isley answered in an offhand manner.

"Don't you have chores to do young lady?" Bruce asked.

"Chores?"

"Yes, chores. Since everyone else managed to prevent crime while you were out making merry with my credit card you still have to go and prevent a crime happening." Bruce explained, before grabbing Isley's wrist and dragging her outside.

Edward looked between the two women staring at each other. On his left, Harley was crouched on the floor and staring wide-eyed at Barbara Gordon, who returned Harley's stare with lowered eyelids. Which, given that Harley's boyfriend was responsible for her being in a wheelchair, was understandable.

"Well, are you two going to sit down and do something or stand there gawping all day?" Barbara asked, slightly annoyed. Harley let out a squeak and dropped down onto the floor. "Does she usually do that?" Barbara asked. Edward shook his head silently.

Isley wandered around downtown Gotham, hoping that she could just stumble upon a crime and be done with it. Until she spotted a youth spraying graffiti on the wall. Walking over, she noticed the youth couldn't even be bothered to write correctly.

"Okay then, let's start at the top." Isley started, sounding like a primary school teacher who's spent too long with the little demon hellspawn that are dumped on them at every opportunity. Grabbing the kid's wrists, Ivy put her hand over the kid's on the spray can nozzle. "First, Batman is a name, so it begins with a capital letter." Isley said as she guided the spray can to form a capital B over the youth's hastily scrawled lower case one. "Second, sucks is spelt s–u–c–k–s, not s-u-x." Isley said as she used the spray paint to spray a line over the misspelt word and sprayed the correct spelling on instead, "Third, ass is spelled a-s-s not a-z-z." Isley corrected yet another mistake. "Fourth, says is spelt s-a-y-s, not s-e-z." Isley said. Another correction got sprayed on the wall. "Fifth who called their child '3l1t3 l33t 5p3ak3r?"

"I-it means 'elite leet speaker'!" The kid squealed, terrified. Isley sprayed a line through the gratuitous leet before writing 'elite leet speaker' in English.

"There we are, proper English." Isley said. As a police car pulled up, the kid decided to try and make a run for it. Isley just pulled him back. "And where do you think you're going?"

"E-erm, I'm b-being arrested!" The kid stammered.

"Not without a lesson in the proper use of punctuation you're not." Isley stated. "Right, let's take it from the top. 'Batman sucks ass' is a quote being said by Elite Leet Speaker, so we need to use?"

"Q-quotation marks?" The poor kid stammered.

"Quotation marks." Isley repeated, spraying them in. "Now, what usually follows or preceeds speech when it is written down in the form of a quote?"

"A c-coma?"

"A coma." Isley repeated, spraying one in. And what does every sentence end with?"

"A period." The kid stated. Isley sprayed one on.

"There, see. Much better when you use proper English and conventional punctuation. Means people don't have to struggle to understand you. Now write that out again ten times and then go away." Isley said, walking off in the opposite direction to the cops coming to arrest the kid. "Kid's these days," Isley said to herself, "Can't even be bothered to use correct spelling."

Barbara stared at her two guests while she made a coffee. Edward had fired up her Xbox and started playing an online game while Harley seemed to have spaced out and was staring at a wall. As her coffee machine finished dispensing her coffee, Barbara moved over so her chair was next to the couch Harley was sat on.

"Something wrong?" Barbara asked, looking straight at the blonde clown. Harley just squeaked again and started shaking her head. Barbara sighed. "Is it something to do with me?" Harley paused, before a small nod answered Barbara's question. "Is it to do with me being in the wheelchair?" Another nod. "Is it to do with Joker?" No nod, but a small tear trailed down Harley's face. Barbara was getting fed up of dancing around the problem. "Is your quietness something to do with what Joker did that put me in this chair?" Harley sniffed as another tear streaked down her face. Just what Barbara had wanted to deal with today. A clown getting a sudden attack of conscience. Not.

"Right, let's straighten this out now. You didn't shoot me. So you're not responsible for this. He on the other hand is. But you are not him. So unless you've suddenly been possessed by Joker, in which case I'll smack your head off with a lampshade, stop being emo and start behaving normally, got it?" Before Harley could respond, the TV started billowing out bad language and casual derogatory terms. Edward Nygma had logged onto Xbox Live. Which meant that the ugly face of the Internet had found it's way into Barbara Gordon's apartment. Barbara didn't respond until some jerk shouted something that really got her pissed off.

"You're such a girl you noob, no wonder you can't shoot 'em. Girls can't play first person shooters!" Some jerk shouted into their headset.

"Controller and microphone, now!" Barbara shouted. Edward threw them and Barbara put the microphone around her ear and picked up the controller from her lap. "Listen you sorry excuse for a human being, a woman can do anything you can do just as well. Got it?"

"Who are you?" The guy shouted back.

"Oracle." Barbara said, choosing to use her alias rather than her real name. Sadly, the conversation soon descended into typical xbox male noise.

"Show us your tits!"

"Take your shirt off!"

"Go back to your kitchen!" Barbara held onto the controller so tightly that it could easily snap. Proceeding to stalk around the map killing the players who'd decided that just because she possessed breasts it affected her gaming abilities, Barbara soon had one high kill count. As the game ended because she'd hit the highest kill barrier, the map was reset as Harley grabbed a second controller and headset. Barbara looked at the sight of the harlequin holding a controller before turning her attention back to the tv.

"Look out guys, girls are here!"

"Oh crap, they ruin everything!"

"Go back to the makeup counter, barbie!"

Now the xbox gamers were in for a little treat called ownage. Delivered by a grinning Barbara Gordon and a laughing Harley.

"Who's the noob?" Someone shouted as Harley shot a player's head off.

"I'm Harleen Quinzell." Harley answered, grinning. The effect was electric.

"What? Joker's girl?"

"The mistress of mischief? Here?"

"We're screwed!"

"Ya got that right!" Harley shouted as her character charged into the warzone with a machine gun.

"Um, don't you two think you've had enough?" Edward asked, slightly nervous at the fact that the two women were laughing at the carnage on the screen. They just turned to look at him and glared. That shut him up instantly.

Bruce walked down the corridor towards Barbara's apartment. Hopefully, the two little hellraisers would have done something serious. Anything for an excuse to kick them back into Arkham. Opening the door, Bruce noticed both Barbara and Harley smiling at the screen.

"Hey, have a good day?" Barbara asked.

"Yeah, what have you two been up to?" Bruce asked, slightly suspicious of the lack of Edward.

"Owning noobs." Harley answered, causing the two women to laugh loudly.

"In English?" Bruce asked.

"Oh, we taught some young punks that females rock!" Barbara shouted, as she and Harley high-fived each other. Bruce just stared as behind him a nervous voice called, "Have they got off the games yet?"

_AN: Poison Ivy the spelling and grammar nazi. Who'd have thought? Also, thanks to FullMetal Knight and my anonymous reviewer for reviewing the last chapter._


	4. Chapter 4: Garden Centres, The Den Of

Wayne Rehabilitation Centre

Chapter Four: Garden Centres, The Den of Criminals!

DISCLAIMER: The author does not own Batman, it's owned by D.C. Comics.

Isley woke up to the sound of someone screaming next door. Which, considering that next door was media room and the only person who would be in there at six o'clock in the morning was Harley, meant that Harley was on a videogame.

"SNAKE? SNAKE! SNAAAKE!" Someone shouted, but Isley wouldn't be surprised to find that was the tv.

"OTACON? OTACON! OTAAACON!" Harley joined in the shouting.

"HARLEY? HARLEY! HARRRLEY!" Isley shouted, trying to get the clown's attention.

"RED? RED! REEED!" Harley shouted back, obviously not aware of the time or the fact people were trying to sleep.

"GO TO BED! PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!" Isley shouted.

"WOULD THE PAIR OF YOU KNOCK IT OFF!" Bruce shouted from his room. Silence ensued.

A couple of hours later, Bruce was woken up again by Alfred telling him Commissioner Gordon wanted to speak to him. Getting dressed very quickly in a suit, Bruce ran downstairs to find the commissioner waiting for him.

"Mr Wayne, I don't quite know how to tell you this," The commissioner began, "But has Ms. Isley told you what she did a few days ago?"

"She told me she caught a graffiti artist." Bruce stated bluntly.

"Well, there was more to it that that. She caught him and taught him proper spelling. Using a brick wall as a board and spray paint to write down corrections to his graffiti." The commissioner explained. "And as a result, she caused most of the damage." The commissioner continued but Bruce stopped listening at 'caused most of the damage'. That meant that Isley had broken her parole. Which meant he could kick her out. Bruce had a smile on his face like a two year old had found out christmas had come early as he ran towards the media room, where Isley was bound to be. Kicking the doors open, Bruce spotted the green lady sprawled on a sofa while her energetic friend bounced around.

"You! You're going back to Arkham!" Bruce shouted.

"What?" Isley asked, confused.

"Bruce, graffiti isn't criminal – it's a demeanour." Commissioner Gordon added, "She hasn't technically broken her parole."

"What?" Bruce and Isley asked together.

"We're fining her the cost of getting the wall cleaned, but other than that, no harm done." The commissioner stated, "And Babs wanted me to remind you that next time you get her to babysit someone you pay for it." Bruce looked like someone had just kicked him in the nuts and slapped him across the face. Isley looked like someone had just used a plant pot as a weapon, forgetting a poor, innocent plant was in it at the time and Harley didn't even react. In short, two shocked people and one very oblivious harlequin.

"NO! SNAKE! DON'T GIVE IN!" Harley suddenly shouted, causing the other three adults in the room (assuming Harley could even be termed an 'adult') to stare at the petite blonde.

"Is that normal?" the commissioner asked, pointing at Harley. Isley just sighed as an answer while Bruce chose to nod.

After the commissioner had left, Bruce had kicked all the rogues out onto the streets and told them they each had to prevent one crime without committing anything he deemed a crime. Which had been pointedly directed at Isley. Of course, Bruce was a bit slow on the uptake, and didn't notice Isley heading straight for the one place everyone else would rather she was kept away from. A garden centre. Walking in and leaning against the wall, Isley waited for the inevitable. Within about five minutes, she caught someone trying to shove a small tree they'd just brought into the back of their small hatchback. Or as Isley saw it, wilfully abusing a tree by shoving it violently into a confined space. One quick call on her handset, and the Bats came running. Which he stopped doing when he found Isley attempting to wrestle a middle aged woman to the ground.

"Alright, what crime has she committed that justifies ramming her on the floor?" Batman asked, slightly annoyed.

"Wilful endangerment of life." Isley snapped back, holding the woman in an armlock.

"Uh-huh, and who's life was she attempting to endanger?"

"That ones!" Isley shouted, pointing at the tree. Batman looked from the tree, which was still sticking out the back of the car to the two women, before pulling Isley off. The terrified woman just ran off, forgetting car and her new purchase. Batman dragged Isley off by the arm, shouting at her that, while she might have problems with it, sticking trees in the boot of a car was not illegal. Before Isley could get a word in edgeways, Batman ran off, presumably because someone else had phoned in a crime. Isley just sighed and kicked a can across the parking lot.

While Isley had been 'preventing' a crime in her favourite hangout, Edward Nygma had gone to one of his old haunts. A public library. Partly so that if he caught someone doing something stupid, he'd get to watch the look of utter shock on their face when both The Riddler and the Bat showed up and had an argument. And even if he didn't manage to scare someone, he could at least browse the library's collection of rare books. Within minutes Nygma wasn't even looking for potential crimes anymore, but sat in an armchair reading a Stephen King novel. Purely because he could. Back at Arkham, their library was a joke. No horror novels, no sci-fi, no hardbacks. The only books they had were slushy chick lit. And the only person who would actually check them out to read in their cells was Harley. While Nygma was reading quietly, some moron started shouting down his phone.

"HELLO? JOHN? IT'S BEN. I'M IN A LIBRARY! A LIBRARY!" Nygma turned to glare at the source of a disturbance. "WHAT? I'M READING SHAKESPEARE! IT'S RUBBISH, YEAH." That casual slip caused Nygma to drop the book he was holding and walk right up to the obnoxious guy.

"Excuse me sir," Nygma began, "This is a library. It's supposed to be a quiet, peaceful place. You're wrecking that." The ignorant man just scowled at Nygma.

"And I'm trying to have a life away from nerds like you an' you're wrecking that!" The moron shouted, apparently not realising who Nygma was. Nygma's eyes lowered. There were many things people could do to really annoy him. Referring to him as a nerd and being rude was one of them. Just before Nygma could retaliate, he saw a better opportunity for revenge. Harley had just walked into the library. Smiling, Nygma waved to Harley to come over there.

"Sir, I am not a nerd, and I'm going to prove it by introducing one of my friends." Nygma said, smiling. Harley walked over, beaming as usual.

"Heya Eds." Harley said, coming to a stop, "Stopped any crimes yet? I caught a guy conning some gamers by charging them massive amounts of money for crappy games. Bats said that was not technically a crime, but the guy near fainted when he walked in. Who's this?" By the time Harley finished talking, the ignorant man's face was pale.

"Just some guy who was shouting down a mobile phone who doesn't like nerds." Nygma said, smile getting larger.

"Huh, how can you not like smart people?" Harley asked, pouting. The guy nearly had a heart attack. Harley Quinn, the Mistress of Mischief, was pouting at him. People had died from less in Gotham. The guy ran off screaming, dropping his cellphone on the floor. This gave Eddie an idea. Accessing the phone and making a note of the number and messing with some settings, Nygma handed the phone in to the librarians.

Bruce Wayne was angry. Yet again, the rogues had managed to get away with not preventing crimes. And yet again they hadn't committed any crime for him to throw their asses in Arkham. Crane, Nygma and Harley had all failed to report anything and Isley had tried to rope him into her crusade. Still, at least nobody had done anything they could be fined for. While Bruce was moping about the batcave, Harley and Edward sat in the media room, laughing. Edward had reprogrammed ignorant guy's cellphone so that if he received a call, a very cheesy song would play that would definitely embarrass him. And since they knew he had picked it up and was with friends, they dialled his number.

"So, I'm standing in the library on the phone and this pencil neck shows up and starts mouthing off." The prat said to his friends. They all started commenting on it when his phone went off.

"I love nerds! They are cool! Excelsior!" The prat's phone declared, leading to many jokes at his expense.

_AN: Presentations, they can just suck the creativity right outta you. That's why I haven't put a single update on here for ages for any of my fics. But, I've done it now, so it's back to the weekly grind of studying and the weekends of games and fanfiction. Which, given I just brought a copy of Final Fantasy 7 means lots of gaming. And, before I forget, thanks to Artemis Queen of the Stars for pointing out the fact that I forgot to add a disclaimer at the end of the last chapter. Normally, when I parody or reference something else like a game or a film I like, I add a second disclaimer at the bottom underneath the author's note. But last chapter, I forgot. So in case anyone didn't notice, Isley's little rant about spelling and grammar in the last chapter was a reference to Monty Python's Life Of Brian, which I obviously do not own. And, I'm sorry I kept you waiting for this chapter, Artemis. And thanks to the other two people who reviewed chapter three; anon and extraordinary geek. It makes me happy when people like the stuff I write. And before I forget again, I don't own Metal Gear Solid, that's Konami's._


	5. Chapter 5: Alternative Vocations

Wayne Rehabilitation Centre

Chapter 5: Alternative Vocations

DISCLAIMER: The author does not own the rights to the Batman comics, they're owned by DC Comics.

Crane leaned back in the comfy chair that he'd grabbed in the media room. Right next to him was a very scared Harley. Not because he'd just sprayed gas in her face, but because she was playing a survival horror game. At first, Crane had been sceptical that a video game could be horrifying, but after watching the first few moments of the game, he was hooked. While Harley was the one playing the game, Crane got to watch her reactions.

"Ah! Corpse in a locker!" Harley shrieked as a corpse fell out of a locker and fell onto a floor made of wire fencing. Which was when Batman decided to rain on their parade by opening the disc cover, yanking the disc out and throwing it out an open window. The reaction from Harley was instantaneous. "WHAT THE HELL? THAT COST ME TWENTY BUCKS USED! WITHOUT A COVER!" Harley shouted.

"Then you got ripped off." Batman stated, "You're both going downstairs, meeting."

"I wasn't ripped off, it's rare. A classic. And you don't just toss it out the... We're going where?" Harley asked, cutting herself off mid-rant.

"Downstairs dining room. We're having a meeting. Isley and Edward are already downstairs waiting for you two."

"Why?" Crane asked.

"Because since none of you seem to have a clue about what a crime actually is when you're meant to be preventing them, I've decided to try a different approach to rehabilitating you."

Pamela Isley watched as both Crane and Harley walked into the room, Bats walking in behind them. Both Crane and Harley looked annoyed, and Harley looked like she was on the verge of tears. Amazingly, Isley didn't even have to wait for Harley to reach her before the tears started.

"RED!" Harley wailed, "He broke my new game!" Harley shouted, pointing at Batman.

"The twenty pound PlayStation 1 game?" Isley asked.

"Uh-huh." Harley answered, her pigtails twitching forwards and backwards as she nodded.

"Do you have any idea what environmental damage you've caused?" Isley screamed at Batman, who looked like he'd just been blindsided.

"You do realise that Harley brought the game." Batman countered. Both Edward and Crane watched, interested. A verbal slanging match between Batman and Poison Ivy on environmental damage – this was going to be entertaining.

"She at least buys second hand games, so her contribution to the damage is minimal at best." Isley stated.

"But games consoles take huge amounts of electricity to run."

"Your car gobbles up more petrol than Harley's games console uses up electricity."

"That, and its not productive. Harley doesn't get anything out of it."

"Not true!" Harley sobbed, "I get to enjoy unique experiences."

"If it keeps little harlequins off the streets and out of abusive men's lives, then it's productive." Isley stated, "Speaking of which, how exactly did the game get broken?"

"He threw it out the window." Harley stuttered in between sobs. Harley suddenly lurched forward and practically glomped Isley. Isley just stared at Batman over Harley's shoulder.

"Well, congratulations, you've made the doormat upset. Are ya happy now?" Isley shouted, giving Batman a death glare. Oh great, environmental debate with a side order of guilt.

"Fine, I'll replace the damn game." Batman growled, "Now can we move onto the meeting? So we can go sooner."

After getting a cup of coffee, Wayne started talking. But most of the rogues weren't listening. They were lost at, 'I'm easing off getting you to do crime fighting'. If Wayne hadn't continued to waffle on they'd have been cheering. Until he dropped a bombshell.

"Instead, you're going to do community service." Wayne stated nonchalantly. Immediately there was uproar.

"Are you insane? The public hate us!" Isley shouted.

"I am NOT picking up trash off the side of the road!" Edward shouted.

"What Nygma said." Crane stated.

"PUPPIES!" Harley squealed happily, causing everyone to give her strange looks. "Er, I mean, bad!" It took Bruce a full five minutes before he could stop staring at Harley and start talking again.

"Relax, I've gotten you community service in places you'll like." Bruce said, tossing four envelopes onto the table before walking out.

After making sure they had their own envelopes (Isley was at least pleased to see that Bruce used recycled paper envelopes), the four opened their envelopes.

"I got a placement at the library." Nygma stated, a small smile on his face.

"A placement at a woman's crisis centre." Harley said, confused. Isley, Crane and Nygma had to suppress the urge to start laughing at that.

"A placement at an environment charity advising companies on how to be more green." Isley read out from her paper. Like Nygma she also had a smile on her face.

"Office boy for the Major Crimes Unit under Jim Gordon?" Crane said, confused, "How come everyone else gets fun stuff and I get shafted?"

"Maybe because we can have fun out of things which do not involve negative emotions or terrorising innocent people." Isley pointed out.

After they'd gotten over the shock of having to do community service, the rogues settled down into their usual routines of Nygma reading in the mansion's library, Crane sitting outside smoking and Isley and Harley sat in the game room. As an apology for chucking her game out the window, Wayne had brought Harley a stack of games. Harley was acting like a kid in a candy store.

"Reeeeeeeeeeeeeed! Which one should I play? I can't decide!" Harley squealed happily, her pigtails bouncing around. Isley sighed, yet another night of a hyperactive clown and her love of gaming. Still, if it kept her away from 'Mista J', then she was happy.

_AN: In case anyone was wondering, the game Harley was playing at the start was Silent Hill 1. That thing regularly goes for around £20 on eBay. So, Bats really shouldn't have tossed it out the window._

_Also, I noticed when I was looking around my user control panel that this fic has been added to the community "Batman's Rogues." Makes me happy since its the first fic I've written to be added to a community._


	6. Chapter 6: Harley Has A Breakdown

Wayne Rehabilitation Centre

Chapter 6: Harley Has A Break Down

DISCLAIMER: The author does not own Batman, it is owned by DC Comics

It was about five thirty in the morning when Pamela Isley started walking around the corridors of the mansion waking up her fellow parolees. They were to start their work placements today and if she didn't wake them up, who would. Albert Pennyworth wouldn't. Isley had taken pity on him and disabled his alarm clock. The guy was in his sixties at least. He didn't need to be getting up at the crack of dawn to get a bunch of middle aged parolees out of bed. Isley was loathe to admit that she was in that group as well. The only person she knew was under the age of thirty in the building was Harley. Speaking of which, Isley pushed the door open to Harley's allotted room. No sign of the harlequin having been near there recently, save the clothes chucked across the bed. Isley walked down the corridor and pushed open the door to the media room. On the screen was, as usual, a video game. From the graphics, Isley could tell it was a PSone game. Looking around, she noticed Harley zoned out on the sofa, still holding the controller in her sleep. Slowly pulling the controller out of Harley's hands so as not to wake her up, Isley saved the game and turned off the console. Harley suddenly tipped over on the sofa so her head was in Isley's lap and she was snoring lightly.

"Has anyone seen my shoes?" Nygma shouted from the corridor.

"Did you check your feet?" Crane yelled from somewhere else. Isley frowned, those two were going to wake Harley up if they weren't careful.

"Yeah, they're on my feet!" For a genius, Nygma could be amazingly absent-minded.

"Where are my glasses?" Crane shouted. Like Nygma, he could really be dense.

"On your face!" Nygma shouted. Isley watched as Harley started to wake up, probably from all the shouting.

"Morning, Red." Harley said, pigtails drooping down with her eyelids, "What's for breakfast?"

"Cereal." Isley stated.

"Can I put sugar on it?"

"No."

"Just a little?"

"No." Harley decided to switch to pouting to try to get her way. "And since when have I ever caved into the kicked puppy look?" Isley asked, smirking.

"Today?" Harley replied, hopefully. Isley just shook her head.

Walking into the dining room, Isley saw that not only were the two biggest blonde moments up, but so was Bruce Wayne, with a grimace on his face that in Isley's considered opinion could rival Batman's. In fact, the only people who were in a positive mood were Harley and Alfred. And since Harley's mood swung like a hyperactive chimp, she didn't count. For some reason, Alfred was constantly upbeat, to the point where he was constantly trying to cheer up those around him. Isley got herself a bowl of cornflakes while Harley bounced around in her chair as Alfred got her a bowl of something that was no doubt loaded with e-numbers and probably wouldn't be considered part of a healthy diet.

"Will there be anything else, Miss Quinzell?" Alfred asked. Isley mentally slapped herself.

"Can I have some sugar, please?" Harley asked. Isley didn't even need to look to know Harley was doing the kicked puppy look again.

"No." Bruce commanded. Harley whined, but eventually started shovelling the cereal, that had bits of candy in it and was probably intended for pre-schoolers, into her mouth. Both Crane and Nygma were chowing down on toast while Bruce just had a cup of coffee. That Harley was gazing at longingly. Harley had been banned from having any coffee ever since the first time she'd turned up at Isley's door in the middle of the night and had proceeded to stay up for forty hours singing children's songs so loud Isley had wondered why it was that Batman didn't just kick her front door in since there was no way on earth he wouldn't have heard the racket.

"Right, now it's Monday, so it's Harley and Isley's turn for community service." Bruce stated, probably as a little reminder. They'd agreed on a schedule, or rather Bruce made one up and everyone agreed under pain of Arkham Asylum. Monday's were Isley and Harley, Tuesday's Isley and Crane, Wednesday's Crane and Nygma, Thursday's Nygma and Harley. Everyone got Friday's off. And, partly as a reward and partly so that the public would not be scared senseless, on the days they had community service, the rogues were permitted to wear normal clothes with no branding on them.

Fifteen minutes later, both Isley and Harley were dressed for work. Isley had chosen a dark green business suit which contrasted nicely with her skin whilst Harley was wearing a white blouse and black skirt with her hair up.

"How do I look?" Harley asked. Isley honestly didn't like the look. Not that there was anything awful about it, it was more a case of Harley looking like who she used to be. Before Joker had reached into her chest, grabbed her heart and crushed it in the palm of his hand like a paper cup.

"It – looks good." Isley said, hesitantly. Harley just smiled and ran off, presumably to get a few minutes gaming done before the pair of them were dragged into Bruce's car. Well, Harley was dragged. Isley had more self respect than to allow some man to man-handle her.

After Bruce had dropped Harley off at the crisis centre, his car shot off towards Wayne Tower. Surprise, surprise, Isley's community service was working for Wayne Enterprises. As soon as Bruce pulled up in the car park some bureaucrat separated the two and guided Isley towards the lift. After pressing a button, the man stayed outside the lift. Isley watched as the doors closed and the lift began to move. Watching as the floor numbers descended, Isley was almost caught by surprise when the doors opened. Stepping out of the lift, she looked around. It looked like some kind of warehouse area filled with rows upon rows of filing cabinets and a few computer servers.

"Hello, is anybody here?" Isley called out. A loud bang echoed around the room, followed by someone shouting "Ow." Walking slowly towards the source of the noise, Isley watched as a man who could only be described as skinny wandered out of a cluster of servers, rubbing his head.

"Ms Isley?" The man asked, slowly lowering his hand from his head. Isley nodded. "Did they brief you upstairs?"

"Brief me?"

"On your job around here." Isley shook her head. "Figures, stupid execs forget that nobody is psychic." The man started to walk back towards the servers before turning around. "Do you want to see your workspace, or would you prefer to stand around there?" Isley walked over to find two desks sat in the middle of a circle of servers. One of the desks was empty whilst the other had a cup of coffee, a small laptop and a pile of papers stacked on it. Between the desks was an industrial scanner. The man pointed to the other desk. "That's yours." Isley walked over and sat behind the metallic desk. "This is the archive." The man began, sitting at his own desk, "We take all these file cabinets from the entire building, scan the contents of them onto the corporate network, then ship the cabinets off to off-site storage. Any questions?"

"What's your name?" Isley asked.

"Henry Shaper." The man replied.

A couple of hours later, and Isley had already started to slip into a routine. Pick up a file, type in the identification number. Scan the contents in on the scanner. Save the file. Put the paper copy in a box. Go to the next file. Rinse, repeat. So, when her phone started ringing, Isley jumped out of her seat.

"Hello?" Isley said.

"Ms Isley?" Some woman who sounded like she was a two pack a day smoker asked.

"Yes, who's calling?"

"This is Rosegarden Crisis Centre. Your listed as the contact for a Ms Harleen Quinzell." Isley's heart jumped into her throat.

"Is Harley alright?" Isley asked, not even bothering to hide the panic in her voice.

"Would you be able to come down to the centre? There's been an incident." That set Isley off.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Isley hung up the phone, she didn't want to waste any time. "Can I leave early? Family crisis." Isley asked, standing up.

"Need a ride to the crisis centre?" Shaper asked, picking up a set of keys from his desk. Isley nodded before running for the lift, Shaper not far behind her. After taking the lift back up to the car park, Shaper ran to a small black mini and opened the passenger door. Isley dived into the car as Shaper jumped into the drivers seat and started the engine before speeding out of the car park.

Fifteen minutes later, Shaper's mini pulled up outside the two storey building that was the Rosegarden Crisis Centre. Isley jumped out and sprinted into the building. Running to the reception desk, Isley noticed a plump middle aged woman sat at a computer with a cigarette between her fingers.

"Where's Harley?" Isley shouted, "What's happened?"

"First floor women's bathroom. Down the hall on your left." The nicotine addict choked out before Isley ran off like a shot. Running to the room in question, Isley saw why she'd been called. Harley was just standing in the middle of the room, mouth hanging open slightly, staring at a mirror. Walking into the room, Isley soon noticed that Harley's eyes were puffy and red.

"Harley?" Isley asked, slowly moving towards the girl in question.

"Go away." Harley said quietly, starting to cry all over again.

"No. Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong."

"Bullshit." Harley's eyes strayed off the mirror and onto Isley for the first time since Isley had walked into the room. Isley very rarely said anything in anger, even when she was having a rant about why plants were better than people, it got no more angry than a typical college debate. So, Isley using profanity was a cause for anyone to stop and take notice. "I know something is wrong. And you are going to tell me." Harley just sniffled slightly. Now Isley was worried. It was unlike Harley to be so quiet.

"I-I'm a monster. A k-killer." Harley stammered, "I'm not worth your time, so please..." Isley just stared at her, before grabbing Harley in a hug.

"Harley, you're no monster." Isley stated quietly, whispering straight into Harley's ear, "You can't be blamed for what happened. You were driven insane by a monster. Anything you think you should be blamed for is his fault, and his alone." Harley started whimpering, clinging onto Isley. "Do you want to go home now?" Harley nodded.

Having guided Harley out of the building, Isley noticed that Shaper's mini was still parked on the road, with Shaper sitting in the driving seat.

"Want a lift?" Shaper asked. Isley nodded, opening the passenger door and folding down the front seat.

"Wayne Manor." Isley said as both Harley and herself climbed into the back. As soon as the door was shut, Shaper drove off. About ten minutes later, they pulled up outside the mansion gates.

"See you tomorrow, Isley." Shaper said as the two women climbed out of the car. As the door shut, Shaper pulled away. By this time, Harley had stopped clinging onto Isley for dear life, though she still wasn't back to her usual, cheerful self. Until they walked through the front door when she bolted for the media room shouting "Halo!" over and over again.

_AN: Don't worry, the next chapter won't be as heavy as this one._


End file.
